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Over the past couple of days, I've been seeing clear blue skies more and more often. No clouds, no gradient to a darker or lighter color. Just a bright blue. It's plain, like on the cover of a music album. This behavior of the sky usually causes me a very quiet horror somewhere deep inside.

She has a trophic ulcer. There, on her thigh, two or three palms above the knee on the side. She smears it with various ointments, iodine, leaves it out to air out and heal—but this thing doesn't feel like it's getting any better or smaller. A hole in the fabric of reality. Black, small. And covered in dark, brown, purple, and, in parts farther from the core, greenish flesh on all sides.

"If they confirm my diagnosis, I'll rot alive. I'm basically anyway, but..."

I've never looked at this thing with...

Have you ever liked a concept, idea, or memory so much that you wanted to kiss it like a real person?

Whale

I remembered that once, when I was applying for a bank card, a girl consultant and I went to the vending machine to activate my new card, and somehow we started talk about my native land.

And about whales

I don't remember what the thread of meaning was. I just realized that I cherish this small, cozy memory very much.

And how I started reading Moby Dick.

Reading it just knocked me out. The...

I was working in the library's reading room today, And then I was walking around the town with a friend. We went together with a package of gifts that I gave her in honor of her birthday. It was very pleasant to watch her unfold them.

I shared with my close friends the feelings that have been gnawing at me lately. It turned out to be less scary than I imagined. There is nothing they can do to help me, in a global sense, but it makes me feel better to know that they are there when I need them. And from...